| All of my rent is paid, I-I got my money made
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| Dr-driving 'round with Diggs
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| In a Cadillac they just fuckin' gave
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| Might be a movie star, you’ll wonder who we are
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| How the hell they got a billboard?
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| That’s the kinda shit we kill for
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| Pimp game like I’m Fillmore
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| Sippin' champagne at the Waldorf
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| Bright streak on my bottom row
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| Crooked teeth now designer gold
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| Oh, groovy me with my top button
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| And I’m lookin' like a Beatle
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| Oh, I am a major player, you will recognize later
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| Very rare Don Cheadle, unh
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| Livin' at the top of my limit, you better admit
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| That we top of the pyramid, I mean, who are you kiddin'?
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| Anybody willing to pretend
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| That we didn’t just reinvent how to do it
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| Is fuckin' losin' us in it
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| And I mean really what are we doin'
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| Comparing each other to one another
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| Like we ain’t just some new money to people?
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| These rich motherfuckers have no intention
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| Of ever letting a single one of us become illustrious, people
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| So cop the car, cop the chain, go full Gucci Mane
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| Know I love to (Know I love to)
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| Climb the ranks, wear the suit
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| Try to look cute like I’m supposed to
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| While I pin that, pen raps, tell a story, shoot balls
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| No Rapunzel; |
| these hoes ain’t lettin' down shit
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| That’s why
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| Feel like I’mma always be a thug tho (thug tho)
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| Poor, white, and pissy on a bar stool (bar stool)
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| My whole family, they all had it hard too (they had it hard too)
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| Yeah, we might get rich, but they don’t love you (don't love you)
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| The thug you (this thug you)
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| Please, don’t quote me the price, that ain’t even a flex
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| Send that invoice to PJ, he writes all of my checks
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| I-I just got off a plane, Bora Bora and back
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| A year ago I couldn’t tell you where that was on a map (huh)
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| Hollywood living, never thought I would be into it
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| But these bedposts are strip poles
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| When my girl wants to get intimate
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| Got a fridge full of champagne, organic eggs now
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| Cashmere throw blankets here just to cover my legs now
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| And it ain’t even cold, rockin' no socks in my shoes
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| Rafa in Santa Monica with a fireplace up on the roof
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| But you better know I’m still on my Bay shit
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| Really, like I never left it
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| Just got a few fewer boxes left on a very long checklist
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| And I can’t escape the pain of those that came befo'
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| Aware I got a ways to go to change the course
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| For my family and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to it
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| This club is calling me VIP, but c’mon I ain’t stupid
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| It’s just a paper in my pocket acting as a passport
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| If I lose it they would stop me at the gate and task force
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| Probably come up with the dogs lookin' for the drugs so I
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| Feel like I’mma always be a thug tho (thug tho)
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| Poor, white and pissy on a bar stool (bar stool)
|
| My whole family, they all had it hard too (they had it hard too)
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| Yeah, we might get rich, but they don’t love you (don't love you)
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| The thug you (this thug you)
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| I said this goes out to my partners, man
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| I love you like you’re brothers
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| You’d give me your last dollar, but I’d never take it from ya uh
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| Wife beaters in the summer
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| Just checkin' out the work, tryna go home with a number uh
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| I runners
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| I just wanna drink, rap, and pop a couple stunners
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| Grab a little wake me up and chop it like it’s lumber
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| Talk shit and fuck us over, bro
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| Quick to run you over uh
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| But did we make a bunch of memories?
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| Tried to change my ways, hard to run away from tendencies
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| Made a lot of friends, also made a couple enemies
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| And I swear I saw the devil in my empty glass of Hennessy
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| Hey! |
| Up, up, and away
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| Where the fuck I stay, man? |
| Up, up in the Bay
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| Home of the Warriors, the Raiders and Oakland A’s
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| I got pot that’s makin' legal moves and fools that post for days
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| Yeah, my partners know that I’m a loyalist
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| I’m about as loyal and loyal gets
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| And I ain’t trippin' off the next man, so if you cross the fam
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| Then you’re guaranteed and ex man
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| See me comin', Chevy trucked up
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| Passenger side, gone off pills and fucked up
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| I got partners makin' moves nation and worldwide
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| And I ain’t heard no real shit ever since Furl died
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| Mob shit |